


tender, frantic, life-affirming

by haloud



Series: open up my eager eyes [9]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Emotional Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Body Worship, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: Kyle, Alex, and Michael blow off steam after a stressful day.





	tender, frantic, life-affirming

**Author's Note:**

> directly follows the previous part in this series, but is also just a little over 2k of pure smut. all you really need to know is kyle has sustained a minor injury and the circumstances had them all pretty freaked out. otherwise, enjoy ;)
> 
> this fic is not for redistribution without express permission.

Alex can be subtle; he plans and he executes, with implacable confidence that he will get results whether or not anyone else cooperates or even notices what he’s doing. If he wanted to surprise Kyle, Kyle would be surprised.

If Alex wanted to surprise Kyle, he wouldn’t have involved Michael, who despite a lifetime of truly gold medal quality subterfuge, wouldn’t know subtlety if it crash landed from outer space.

Michael spends the evening falling over himself to cook, to clean up after dinner, to ask if there’s anything Kyle or Alex needs. He’s a whirlwind, constant motion, and Alex seems to grow only more centered and solid the more frenetic Michael becomes, until he palms Michael’s hips and boxes him in with his shoulders and whispers something Kyle can’t hear low into his ear. Slowly, Michael comes down—his eyes droop, almost sleepy-looking—he leans in until his head is resting almost all the way on Alex’s shoulder—until Alex presses a kiss to his temple, turns him around, and prods him in the direction of the shower.

“What’s that all about?” Kyle asks, watching the languid sway of Michael’s hips as he plods towards the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of Kyle’s Michigan sweats, old and baggy and rolled up to the knee to hide how they’re slightly short on him. Maybe he should join him in the shower—make sure he doesn’t do something to hurt himself, as keyed up as he is…

Distracted by the thought of Michael in one of those bizarrely softcore-porn-y shampoo commercials, Kyle almost misses Alex’s answer, a fact that isn’t lost on Alex if the faintly amused and _decidedly _dangerous quirk of his eyebrow is anything to go by.

“It’s been a difficult day, and we’re going to take care of you.”

That light, neutral statement is so loaded with promise that it makes Kyle’s blood race. Heat rushes to his cheeks, flushes down his chest, and he swallows twice to clear his throat before he says, “You know I’m not really all that hurt, right? A little scarring and some awkward questions at the office ‘til it’s all healed up—that’s nothing, considering. You don’t have to do this.”

Alex slides his hands into his pockets, tilts his head and smiles and—if a shark could smile sweetly, he’d look a little bit like Alex Manes. “Hmm…I didn’t think I had to tell you, top of the class. I don’t _have _to do anything. But here’s what _you’re _going to do.”

It’s ridiculous, almost, how often Kyle ends up half-hard just from the sound of Alex’s voice, just from the way he takes control and leaves no room for argument. He’s unashamed, though, when he reaches down to adjust himself, and he grins when Alex’s eyes flick down to watch him palm himself through the fabric.

Alex says, “You’re going to sit right here and think about what we’re going to do to you while you wait for Guerin to get out of the shower. Then, when you hear the water shut off, you’re going to strip, and you’re going to come to the bedroom. Nod if you understand.”

Kyle’s head bobs on his neck—impossible to do anything else. He understands, alright, understands that he wants to hear Alex order him around some more, but _closer, _wants to feel his voice vibrating through his chest and rumbling right against his ear. But Alex has already turned away, towards the bedroom, and Kyle sinks into a chair.

Guerin showers fast, used to the limitations of the Airstream’s tank, but it feels like an eternity Kyle sits there, shifting on the rough upholstery, alternating his hands from balled up on his thighs to gripping the arms of the chair, back and forth, trying to ignore the demanding throb of his cock every time he glances at the bedroom door left just _slightly _ajar, just enough that Alex can be seen in flashes, every now and then, as he moves around the room, as he takes care of his leg, as he gets ready to take care of them.

It’s a bit of a ritual, Kyle knows, for Alex to do this alone, for him to center himself and run through a list in his mind, making sure they’re ready, making sure they have everything they could possibly need. But just because Alex needs that split second of along time doesn’t mean he can’t multitask and use it to torture Kyle and Michael.

Kyle has just enough time to picture Michael—what he might be doing in the shower, water streaming from his curls and down his jaw, down his chest. How he might roll his overheated forehead against the cool wall of the shower and bite his lip to keep from whimpering at the contrast. How he might hug himself around the waist, keeping himself from touching the same way Kyle is right now, with his nails dug into the upholstery.

The rattle of the pipes as the water shuts off has Kyle on his feet and racing toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of his clothes in his wake. He almost runs straight into Michael, who isn’t even wearing a towel, as they both reach for the door.

“Age before beauty,” Michael says, but his tone is all off, and for a long moment after, he just stares at Kyle, water droplets still clinging to his skin, his eyes big and bright and dilated, and lets Kyle be the one to push the door open and walk inside first.

“Come here,” Alex says without preamble, and both his lovers follow orders—Kyle first, then Michael, nearly plastered against his back, already grabbing at him with eager hands until Alex nudges them aside to take control.

Without any further words—and Michael and Alex _must _have planned this ahead of time, for as in sync as they are as they circle him—Alex pulls Kyle onto the mattress, and Kyle lets himself be positioned so he’s spooned entirely, his back to Alex’s front, Alex’s half-hard cock already resting heavy in the crack of Kyle’s ass and making him clench with remembered sensation, saliva flooding his mouth. And by the time Alex has Kyle positioned, Michael is already tucked between his thighs, his arms looped loosely around Kyle’s knees, holding them in place around him.

Michael doesn’t swallow him down hungry like usual, no, this time he laps at him first, broad flat of his tongue against just the tip of Kyle’s dick in teasing, tasting strokes—and Kyle can see Michael’s arm moving too, just as slowly, in perfect time, as he works himself, building up his own pleasure.

Alex helps out, holding Kyle’s hips still even as he wants to jerk forward, as Michael sinks down so, so slowly, then pulls off again, swallows his excess saliva and nuzzles in closer to lap at Kyle’s balls instead. The softest friction, the hot, wet silk of him—Kyle grits his teeth and _shivers, _held in place twice over, twitching against his confinement, close, so close already, to coming in great, shuddering pulses. Finally, just as Kyle balances on the edge, just shy of him opening his mouth and pleading to come, Alex taps Michael lightly on the shoulder. Michael then pulls back up to the tip of Kyle’s cock and sinks down, _down, _in one smooth and practiced motion, eyes slitted and unfocused as he tongues the vein on the underside, wraps his lips around the base and sucks in slow and gentle pulls.

It’s an even, constant sensation, tugging at his nerve endings, sending waves of pleasure up his spine, and it’s distracting enough that Kyle loses to a shocked whine at the first rub of Alex’s fingers across the outside of his hole. Alex rewards him with a kiss, a scrape of his teeth, right in between Kyle’s shoulder blades, just on the edge of the gauze that covers his hurt side. Kyle lets his eyes drift shut when he hears the cap of the lube; he loosens his muscles and waits, breath stuttering, for the maddeningly intimate—the very first slide of Alex’s first finger inside of him—and Kyle loves what comes later, of course, the overwhelming heat and rush of it, but it’s this first moment that gets his heart pounding in his chest, that has him gasping and crying out in helpless ecstasy.

And in that moment, then, he loses time—all of the sudden, it seems, he’s lost to the shivering, strange fullness of Alex opening him up with three fingers, then four, and Alex leans his head against Kyle’s, his breath tickling Kyle’s ear, his other hand pressed firm and weighty, like iron across his chest, right against his heartbeat.

“He feels good, doesn’t he,” Alex rasps, and his leg nudges between Kyle’s so he can stroke his foot against Michael’s side—and Michael hums at the brush of Alex’s skin, a warm, grateful, surrendering sound. Kyle’s hand flies down, curves into the meat of Michael’s shoulder at the feeling of his throat buzzing around the head of his cock. He digs in his nails, and Michael _gulps, _greedy and satisfied. The pleasure starts at Kyle’s toes, curling helplessly, then making every muscle twitch, calf to quad, clenching and rubbing convulsively around Michael’s head, his curls tickling that delicate skin—and Kyle can’t _help _himself, shuddering a moan out into the hot, close air, finally, finally tipping his hips _back _into the thrust of Alex’s fingers, begging for more, begging for less.

“_Good. _So good,” Alex breathes, then blows a gentle stream of air directly into the shell of Kyle’s ear, following that cool sensation with the liquid-hot tip of his tongue, and a strangled, desperate _nnnaahh _leaps out of Kyle’s throat.

And he moans again, low and unhappy, when Alex slides his fingers out, leaving Kyle twitching and empty for a second, until Kyle is arching back against the blunt pressure of Alex’s head sinking _so _slowly into him where he’s stretched and aching.

It doesn’t take long. Alex sinks to halfway before pulling smoothly back out and sinking _slowly _in again, just a few deliberate drags against Kyle’s prostate—and he’s already so primed, so on edge from the clutch and release of Michael’s throat—and he’s already so raw, inside and out, from the emotions of the day—and Kyle is coming, open-mouthed and soundless, for the first time that night.

Michael is so out of it he just swallows and stays there, head lolling against Kyle’s thigh. Sensitive, too sensitive after coming, Kyle clumsily yanks at Michael’s hair to pull him off and that’s when Michael comes too, panting raggedly, eyes rolled back, utterly limp in Kyle’s lap. Alex swears low and hot into the nape of Kyle’s neck and pumps his hips faster, harder, digging five tiny bruises into Kyle’s hip as Kyle moans, open and abandoned and close to the point of pain he’s so sensitive. He whines, a high, anxious sound as Alex wraps his rough palm around Kyle’s spent cock, where it’s still wet from Michael’s mouth. But Alex doesn’t move, doesn’t create any friction, just cups him there like a reminder, like the barest edge of a threat, and Kyle’s cock twitches pitifully, trying to get hard again. All the while, as Alex chases his completion, Michael shifts around to watch them, to be closer, to stay caged in and cradled in the tangle of their limbs, regardless of the possibility he might get kicked, and Kyle’s hand finds its way back to his hair, tangling in the still-damp curls, grounding himself in the texture of his hair curling around his fingers.

Alex spills inside Kyle on a sharp, ragged exhale, and it’s a release in the truest sense, like every overstressed muscle in his body finally gives way and relaxes. For long moments after, they breathe in the heat trapped between them, in sync and understanding. They’re here. They’re all okay. They will be okay tomorrow, and tomorrow they will consider they day after. As their sweat cools, Kyle and Alex coax Michael up the bed to join them, with soft words and petting hands and, frankly, by dragging him the last few inches so Kyle, cradled between his lovers, can lean into his warm chest, and close his eyes.

They’ll go a second round—Alex under Kyle, Michael over top of them, Kyle caught between them—but for now Kyle is already dozing, the slight throb in his shoulder long forgotten, perfectly content.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the 18+ discord for providing me many lovely prompts, special mention to chasing and myrmidryad :)) hope u like it 
> 
> also i dont know why the light body worship tag looks like that lol thats just what ao3 is makin it be rn
> 
> discord @ haloud  
tumblr @ cosmicsolipsism


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